


Matched

by poeticdaisy (cinna_daisy)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Carlos and Cecil are Dorks, Language, M/M, Online Dating, Online Romance, What else is new
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinna_daisy/pseuds/poeticdaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil has spent months going on unsuccessful dates recommended to him by an online dating service. If this next one doesn't work out, he might just give up dating all together.</p><p>Carlos' coworker sets him up a dating profile on a whim. He has no intentions of going through with it...except there's something about the user 'VoiceOfNV' that has him intrigued. </p><p>An online dating AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interesting, If Slightly Confusing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this takes place in a Night Vale where the Internet works just fine, and it's apparently not that difficult to get in and out of the city.
> 
> Disclaimer: I claim no rights over the functions of Match.com, eHarmony, okcupid, or any other dating sites that I stole features of.
> 
> Warnings this chapter for unsolicited pictures of a stranger's genitalia. Oh, online dating.

It wasn’t that Cecil was desperate. It really wasn’t that. It was just that Night Vale was so small sometimes, and there weren’t tons of opportunities for meeting guys. And let’s face it- he wasn’t getting any younger. He’d already tried out dating a good share of the possible partners that lived in Night Vale when he was in his twenties, and to be very honest, there just weren't that many people left.

But he’d lived alone for so long, and Cecil was a people person by nature. He craved companionship and love, and yes, sex too. He wanted to buy somebody dinner and try and impress them, and he wanted to wake up with somebody who maybe wasn't that cute of a sleeper, but it was them, so he'd think it was cute anyway. Cecil wanted.

So he’d signed up for his online dating profile. It seemed like a good idea, and he had fun uploading pictures and writing his biography. He liked being able to see the profiles of people that weren’t from Night Vale but were still relatively close. Messages started to flood in, and he went on date after date.

Most of the dates were fun at first. Once he went to a carnival with a guy that lived forty five minutes from Night Vale. It was okay, but he really didn’t think he and the other guy (Jeff? James?) had much chemistry. He went on a very romantic dinner date with somebody who had the lightest hair Cecil had ever seen. The dinner was great, but something just didn’t click with Cecil. Maybe this one was trying too hard. His third date was a picnic, but that guy had talked forever about his ex, and Cecil knew a lost cause when he saw one. His fourth was a trip to the theater, and this one had lied excessively about how he looked. Cecil wasn’t particularly shallow, but the fact that he lied irked him.

The dates continued in that fashion. They were all _okay_ , Cecil supposed, but he had always been a bit of a romantic, and nothing made his jaw drop or his stomach flutter. And after going on so many without finding something he was looking for, he was beginning to get discouraged. Before he knew it, the six months on the service that he’d paid for was up, and he received a pop up message asking if had found his partner yet.

He almost laughed. No, he clicked, thinking of his last date, with the man who spoke so loudly he gave Cecil a headache. He definitely had not.

Cecil’s consolation prize was six more months of the dating service for free. But now, he was four months into that, and he still had very few prospects.

Scrolling through his daily suggestions, Cecil was unimpressed. Four out of the eight suggestions clearly had qualities that Cecil listed specifically in his “not interested” column, so those were right out. The fifth was a blonde guy who looked really rugged. His picture intrigued Cecil enough to click on his profile. 

_My favorite pastimes include kayaking and mountain hiking._

He clicked off the profile with disappointment. _Mountain_ hiking? Of course all the pretty ones are delusional. 

The sixth one wasn’t at all what Cecil usually liked physically, but his profile was written out with correct grammar and made it appear that he was a pretty decent guy. Cecil put him in his ‘maybe’ category.

The seventh one was 25 years older than him and had been married six separate times. Cecil wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover or anything, but he also wasn’t sure he wanted to be number seven on that list.

The eight one…oh, the _eighth_ one. Cecil’s face lit up with excitement. He was quite possibly the most handsome human Cecil had ever laid eyes on. His profile picture was of the dark-skinned man in a lab coat, looking up from a clipboard that he was writing on. He had a small smile on his face, and his hair was dark, messy, and perfect. 

Cecil clicked on his profile and immediately checked for more photos, but it seemed that this was the only one the man had uploaded. He tried to enlarge it to see if he could gleam anything new out of the photo, but the photo must have been originally that small. 

He moved on to the rest of the profile. “Carlos448” wasn’t exactly a creative username, but it did give away his first name. _Carlos_. How fitting. A perfect name for a perfect-looking man. According to the rest of the profile, Carlos had never been married, didn't have kids and drinks only socially. He didn’t really have any physical requirements in a partner listed, so Cecil was unable to figure out if Carlos would be interested in him. 

There was no elaborate bio written. He had no “dislikes” and only a few “likes,” listed in a bullet point format.

_Likes:_

_Science_  


Sun  


Vegetables 

Cecil blinked. He _also_ liked science, sun, and vegetables! Well, he didn’t actually know a lot about science, but he was sure it’d be very interesting. And he lived in Night Vale, there was always a lot of sun, and he loved Night Vale! And invisible corn was practically his favorite food. He and Carlos were basically as compatible as could be.

There was nothing else written on the profile, so Cecil excitedly moved his mouse over to the “message” button. But before he could press it, he found himself hesitant.

What if he met up with Carlos and he turned out to be as much of a dud as the rest of them? He hadn’t exactly been successful. How did he know that Carlos, with his perfect hair and love of science, would be any different? 

He had two more months left of the dating service, but honestly, Cecil was getting tired. He didn’t want to spend 8 more weekends meeting strangers only to be disappointed. At the same time, he also didn’t want to settle for somebody that was less than perfect for him.

Could Carlos be different than the last string awful dates? He was unsure. What if Carlos was perfect, but still uninterested in Cecil?

Instead of messaging him, Cecil scrolled back down and sent him a ‘wink.’ There. Now Carlos would know he was interested, but it would be up to him to make the first move. If he did, then maybe that was a sign that he should take things further. If not, then it might be time to give up dating for good. It was getting old. 

Maybe some people just weren’t meant for long term romance.

Cecil stood up and headed for his bedroom. The Faceless Old Woman That Secretly Lived in His Home had been dragging her nails down the mirror for the last twenty minutes. He should probably see what she wanted.

//////////

Carlos slipped the goggles off of his face, taking caution to not get the rubber strap get tangled in his hair. Nine hours was enough for one day, he figured. If he hadn’t gotten the reaction he wanted yet, one more trial probably wasn’t going to make it happen.

“Rochelle,” he called to his co-worker. “I’m heading home for the night. Do you want me to bring you back dinner or anything?” He peeled off his gloves and disposed of them, running his hands under warm water.

“Actually,” Rochelle said, appearing out of the bathroom in the lab, “I have a dinner date tonight, so I’m good.”

“Do you?” he asked. That explained why she brought her highest pair of heels to work with her. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“I met her on the subway, actually,” she said. “We hit it off when she got shoved into my lap by some rowdy teenager.” Rochelle accompanied this anecdote with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.

Carlos rolled his eyes. “That _would_ happen to you,” he told her. “People just literally falling into your lap? Can you get any luckier?”

Rochelle looked slightly nervous, curling a piece of her dark hair in her fingers. “Erm. About that.”

Carlos looked at her questioningly. “About what, exactly?”

“About your lack of luck…in that particular department…” 

“The ‘people falling into me’ department?”

“No, the dating department,” she clarified, walking over to her bag. “I might have…done a thing, for you.”

Carlos stopped putting away his equipment and swallowed. “Rochelle,” he said in a measured voice. “What ‘thing,’ exactly, did you do?”

“Don’t freak out,” she said, and Carlos almost started hyperventilating because nothing good has ever followed those words. “But…I might have made you an online dating profile.”

“ _What?_ ” Carlos shrieked. “Why on earth would you do that? I’m not going on a date with a stranger! I don’t even have time to date a stranger! I-“

“I know, okay?” She said, and she had the common sense to look a little uncomfortable. “But Tiana and I were talking, and we just thought, you know, you don’t necessarily get out much, especially now that you’re working on this big project, and we just though, you know, maybe we could make you one, see what happens? It’s not like you have to do anything you don’t want to do! I can delete it right now, even, if you want!”

She had her computer out, with the profile open. 

“This,” Carlos started, “on top of being a _huge_ invasion of my personal privacy, and a ridiculously _absurd_ commentary on my social life, is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Is it?” She asked. “I don’t need to know a lot about your social life to know that you haven’t been on a date in _at least_ 3 years. Look, Carlos. You can totally just delete it. But you got a wink yesterday, and I think you should take a look at the guy. He doesn’t even live by us, so it’s not like anything could happen. But I think you should just, you know, give it a look.”

Carlos wanted to tell her no, absolutely not, shut it down, get a refund. But… somebody liked his (made up, completely ridiculous) profile? Enough to give it a wink (he would _never_ admit to using that terminology, even in his own mind)? Rochelle, bold as she was, was also correct. He hadn’t been out in quite some time.

Feeling like he was perhaps losing complete control over his life, he walked over to Rochelle’s computer.

“You mean… this ‘VoiceOfNV’ liked my profile?” he asked, looking at the username of the person who had winked at him.

Rochelle beamed. “Yes! He must have seen your picture. I’m sorry I didn’t actually write you much of a profile.” 

Carlos ran his eyes down the information under his name. “Oh my god, when did you even _take_ that picture? And, Rochelle, really? Science, sun, and vegetables? You make me sound like a preschooler at science day camp.” 

“Oh, so suddenly you care what the people of the Internet think of you? And you _do_ like science, sun and vegetables. The only time you get out of the lab is to go outside and eat those awful microwavable veggie medleys you always bring.”

Carlos scoffed. “Those are _delicious_. Don’t pretend you don’t eat them.” 

“I ate them in undergrad, maybe. Anyway, focus Carlos. Look how hot this ‘VoiceofNV’ is! And he’s into you!”

She had a point. VoiceofNV had a lot of pictures up, and although Carlos wouldn’t say he had a type, this guy seemed to be hitting a lot of qualities Carlos looked for. Not that he was looking.

And his profile had a lot of interesting, if slightly confusing, descriptions. And not just about himself. He also went on to extrapolate about the definition of the universe and the improbability of existence. Carlos was intrigued.

He looked back at Rochelle’s hopeful face. “I’m not going on a date with him. I don’t even know where…” he checked the man’s listed location, “Night Vale is. Certainly, it’s not around here.”

She was not to be deterred. “Okay, fine. But what about a message? You can just send him a ‘hello.’ Start talking to him, see what you have in common.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, just do it. I won’t even watch, if you don’t want. Here, here’s the log in information. Take that home with you. I’m going on my date. Message him if you want. Or, you know. Delete it if you’d rather. But you should definitely message him. You could use some fun in your life, okay?”

Rochelle finished writing down the log in information and left, stappy heels clicking on the hard floor of the lab. Carlos finished packing up the equipment and drove home, trying to put all thoughts of online dating out of his head.

He didn’t allow himself to think about it the entire way home, or while he was making dinner. But after he sat back on his couch to eat, he gave in. He balanced his laptop on his stomach and his plate of food on the arm of his chair while he pulled up the profile. Now that he was looking at it for himself, he could see that a few other people besides VoiceOfNV have sent him winks, and one other person had actually sent him a message. Surprised, he clicked it open.

_hey hottie, here’s a pic to make your day better._

Against his better judgment, he opened the attachment, and then almost screamed as he was greeted by the sight of a stranger’s penis. 

“Eugh, eugh,” he stuttered as he tried to close the window. “Ew, ew, ew ,ew.” He couldn’t press the ‘block’ button on ~MV69 fast enough.

He’s sure it was a perfectly nice penis, but he generally liked to at least know the names of the people genitalia belonged to before looking at it. As a general rule, at least.

Trying to not let the image put him off his vegetable medley (screw Rochelle, these were delicious), he scrolled back up to go through the winks. A couple of the guys were attractive enough, he supposed, but nobody’s profile captured his interest like VoiceofNV’s. Something about the mystical, deep prose on the man’s page had him captivated. 

That and the way his deep violet tattoos swirled around his ridiculously well-defined forearms. Can’t count that one out.

But still…what would messaging him accomplish? Not a whole lot. They certainly couldn’t meet in person. 

Was that really a bad thing, though? Maybe they could talk to each other, just online. Alleviate some of the loneliness on nights when there was no one else to talk to. 

In fact, it was probably better that they couldn’t ever meet. No pressure that way. Carlos could actually be himself, for once, without worrying about trying to impress anybody. He wouldn’t have to worry about what he was wearing when they spoke, or about blurting out the wrong thing. He could respond in his own time, after thinking clearly about what he wanted to type. And it wouldn’t require any more time than he wanted to give it.

The idea sounded kind of freeing.

Carlos exhaled. He was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he’d message VoiceofNV and he wouldn’t even respond. A wink didn’t mean much. 

But what was the worse that could happen?

Feeling braver than he had in a while, Carlos clicked the ‘message’ button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://www.poeticdaisy.tumblr.com) if you like to look at reblogs and talk about Night Vale!
> 
> Also, if anybody out there would like to run through these chapters and check for errors for me, that'd be glorious!


	2. A Way Of Being Subtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of the boys have much to lose- why _not_ talk to strangers on the internet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! This is coming so much later than I wanted to give it to you, but I have good excuses. Since I last updated, my house has flooded, I've moved three states away from my old home, and I've started grad school. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! I am absolutely thrilled with the positive responses I got from the first chapter, this fandom is so wonderful. I hope everybody likes this one just as much.
> 
> By the way, the timeline for this story isn't anywhere concrete, just pre-Carlos. Also, I'm using things from the podcast, even though things in the podcast obviously happen post-Carlos' arrival. Just go with it, time isn't real.
> 
> Warnings this chapter: none, besides me playing fast and loose with how science as a profession works and Cecil talking about Feelings.

The Night Vale Elementary School gymnasium was even hotter than usual. Bodies were crammed far too close together to be comfortable, and the fans placed along the walls were doing a mediocre job at best of circulating cool air. The line of adults at the snack table chatted loudly to each other as they filled their paper plates with baked goods and dips. 

Cecil stood in the back corner with his current intern, Khari. Normally he liked to be part of all the hustle and bustle that PTA meetings bring, but today he was having a hard time keeping up his morale. He wasn’t sure what it was, but if he had to guess, he’d wager that the Feelings Delivery Service had dropped a batch of ‘Unnecessarily Melancholy’ off to him when he didn’t notice.

Intern Khari was adjusting the settings on her voice recorder, making sure it was ready to record the upcoming meeting. He had his notebook at the ready, but he doubted the meeting would start for at least another fifteen minutes.

“Hey Cecil,” Intern Khari asked, looking up from the recorder. “How long do you think we’ll be at Mayor Winchell’s press conference Saturday? My friend’s throwing a party that night- supposed to be a total rager- and I was hoping I could get there early enough to help her set up.”

Cecil smiled. Ah, yes, the social gatherings of the youth. He thought of his own college parties fondly.

“I’m sure we won’t be out past six or seven,” he answered. “Plenty of time for you to go help your friend set up the…rager.” The lingo may be new, but the concept wasn’t foreign. Cecil distinctly remembered the days when he and his friends gave ‘drinking to forget’ a completely different meaning.

“Great,” she smiled, finally deciding on the settings for the recorder. “What about you? Any big plans this weekend?”

“Of course I’ve got plans, Intern Khari,” he said, straightening his bow tie. “I won’t be leaving the studio until late Friday, I’ve got that big piece on the garbage men with the scales on their faces coming up. Then we have Mayor Winchell’s press conference Saturday, and I’ll have to go write that up. Better to just get it done with the day of the event, you know? Sunday I’m supposed to spend some time in Old Town doing promotions, giving away those samples of the electric grape jelly that the Ralph’s donated to us- by the way, are you coming to that?”

Intern Khari looked a little quizzical, tugging on her intern shirt as she unnecessarily straightened it. 

“Uh, yeah, sure I can go,” she said. “But Cecil, are you just working all weekend? You worked all of last weekend too.” Her voice was laced with concern. “You need to schedule in some fun time!”

There was a loud laugh from somewhere out of view, and then Cecil’s less than pleasant mood dropped even further.

“Cecil, schedule in anything other than work? That’s not likely! He’s the hardest working guy I know!” It was said jovially, almost admirably, but Cecil just groaned.

“Hello, Steve,” he said, barely making eye contact with the man.

“Hi, Cecil,” he said. “Hello, Intern Khari.” He nodded to her. “Cecil, your intern is right. You need to loosen up some, live a little, you know?”

Cecil wasn’t at all in the mood to listen to any advice, especially not any coming from _Steve Carlsberg_.

“For your information, Steve,” he snapped, pushing himself up off the wall and looking straight at Steve, “I have plenty of fun. I’m having fun right now actually. For some of us, work _is_ fun.”

Steve chuckled heartily, pulling his hands out of the pockets of his khaki pants in order to ruffle Cecil’s hair. Cecil had to try not to hiss at the contact. He promised his sister he’d put forth an effort with the other man. Instead, he stood there unmoving as Steve patted his head.

“Cecil, Cecil,” he said. “You need to take some time off. Why don’t you come by our house Saturday? Joel and Teddy will be over, maybe even Earl if he finishes up with his scouts in time. It’ll be just like old times.”

Cecil couldn’t think of anything he’d like to do less. A Saturday night spent in the company of three men he’d tried to date at one point in his life, plus Steve Carlsberg. It didn’t exactly sound like his perfect idea of fun.

“I have work to do, I told you, Steve,” he said. “And, like I said, I’m not overworked. I enjoy what I do. Intern Khari knows I’m genuinely enjoying myself. I’m not stressed out in the least. In fact, I’d say I’m a pleasure to be around, right, Intern Khari?

He looked over at her. She looked between the men, her big brown eyes blinking, and then she suddenly became very re-interested in the audio recorder, saying nothing.

A lot of help _she_ was.

Steve had the decency to not look triumphant. Cecil just hated him more for it. 

“Cecil,” he started, and he sounded genuine, for what it was worth. “The amount of time you spend at work…it’s unhealthy. This is why you have to resort to online dating.” 

Cecil sputtered. “What?” He asked. Out of all of the directions he thought this conversation was going, he didn’t think Steve Carlsberg was about to bring up his love life. “What in all the void would make you think you know anything about my dating habits?”

He could feel himself getting red in the face. What right did Steve Carlsberg, of all people, have to bring up his personal life?

Steve looked like he wanted to erase what he’d just said. “Er, not that, you know, online dating is a _bad_ thing, of course. I didn’t mean that. I just meant…well, I just meant, Cecil, that if you spent less time at the office, you could focus more on your personal relationships.”

Cecil glared at him, the words to tell Steve how unnecessary and unwanted his advice was came up short. Eventually, he barked out something.

“My personal relationships are fine,” he said evenly. He had to try. For his sister. “And I don’t _resort_ to online dating. I like it. It’s fun. I don’t do it because I’m _desperate_.”

Steve nodded. “I’m sure! Look, just come over Saturday night, okay? Have a night with the guys, it will be good to get out of the office. I have to go grab a seat before the meeting starts, but just think about it, okay?” With that, he shuffled off toward the middle of the room, where plastic chairs were arranged in rows. 

Cecil was left standing in the corner, arms crossed and eyes narrowed at his retreating form. The nerve of him! Steve basically called him desperate. Well, maybe not in so many words, but still. The absolute nerve!

Intern Khari, who had sunk back to the wall and looked like she was hoping the floor would swallow her whole, cleared her throat. Cecil looked back over to her.

“I’m not desperate,” he announced to her, after a moment of awkward silence. 

“Right,” she said, pulling the recorder back out of her high-waisted shorts to fiddle with it some more. “I know, Cecil.”

“I’m _not_ ,” he pressed.

Intern Khari sighed. “Okay, look, Cecil,” she said, looking up at him. “I know you’re not desperate. But Steve had a point. There’s more to life than the radio station, you know? Maybe if you, like, got out once in a while, you’d have a better chance of meeting somebody. Night Vale is totally small and everything, but there’s plenty of perfectly nice guys out there.”

Steve Carlsberg was bad enough, but now his own intern had turned on him? He gave her a wounded look.

“I don’t do online dating because I’m too busy to go on regular dates,” he told her defensively. “I like online dating because I’ve already _tried_ dating all those ‘perfectly nice guys’ you’re talking about, Intern Khari. I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I’m not in my twenties anymore.”

“I’m supposed to believe that out of every guy in Night Vale, you couldn’t find one you liked?” She looked unimpressed, and was still sliding the audio recorder back and forth between her hands.

Cecil huffed out a breath. This was the hard part, the part people couldn’t seem to wrap their minds around.

“Of course, I liked all of them,” he explained. “But liking somebody isn’t the same as loving somebody.” 

Was this too deep to discuss with a college kid? His intern, nonetheless? Oh well. He’d tried having this conversation so many times with so many people, nobody seemed to ever understand. He might as well just go for it. She nodded for him to continue.

“I don’t want to be in a relationship with somebody that’s just ‘nice.’ I only want to be in a relationship that is worth being in. You’re right, I am busy and I do spend a lot of time at work. I like it like that. Work is important to me. I don’t want to take time away from it to be with somebody I’m merely tolerating. I want to spend time with somebody that makes me miss them when I’m at work, that I love so much that I’m thinking about them all day when I’m away. Being with somebody is only worth it if the thought of not being with them seems unbearable.”

He folded his arms in conclusion. The little speech wasn’t eloquent, definitely nothing he’d say on the radio. But honestly the fact that he had to explain this to people made him a little exasperated. Didn’t anybody believe in true love anymore?

While he was talking, Intern Khari’s face began to soften. By the time he was done, she was smiling at him, almost sadly.

“Cecil,” she sighed. “You’re such a romantic.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. He’d been told that tons of times before, by his sister, by Old Woman Josie, by countless numbers of men he’d been on dates with. ‘You have such a big heart,’ they’d all say.

A lot of good a big heart did him when he had no outlet.

“I really, really hope the online dating works out for you. You deserve to find somebody.”

Cecil cringed. It would be one thing, to defend the dating site, if it was successful. But he hadn’t been back on since he winked at Carlos. He meant it- he was tired of all the mediocre dates. The thought of going on another one, just to be disappointed, was exhausting. He was coming to terms with the fact that it might just be time to give up.

He didn’t need to let Intern Khari in on any of that, though. He’d already said enough.

“Thank you, Intern Khari. Now, I do believe we’ve got a PTA meeting to cover.” 

They walked over to the plastic chairs and Cecil put his notebook on his lap. The PTA president, -oh, what was her name? Intern Khari will have it on her recorder- opened the meeting with a discussion of whether sentient backpacks should or should not be allowed in the classroom. It was quite a debate, and Cecil found himself getting more into the spirit of things as the parent’s comments started to turn personal and ugly. 

He made sure he highlighted all of the juicy bits in green in his notebook. PTA meetings _were_ quite fun, once you were in the right mindset. 

The group started to have a discussion about the annual Field Day and Spider Wolf Wrangling Extravaganza, but Cecil was distracted when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He slipped it out, and his eyes widened at the notification waiting for him.

_One New Message From: Carlos448!_

With an attempt to be discreet, he hid his phone behind his notebook as he swiped to read the message. 

He contained a squeal. This couldn’t be real. The perfect, beautiful Carlos had actually messaged him back! Cecil couldn’t believe it.

He tried not to let his mind race with possibilities, but he couldn’t help it. Minutes ago, he had been trying to come to terms with the idea of being alone forever. But now…Carlos had messaged him. Was it a sign? Was this the universe, finally telling him that he may be on the right track? The universe had a way of being subtle like that, sometimes.

Cecil evened out his breathing. He had to contain himself. Carlos was beautiful, yes, and there was something incredibly endearing about his single photo and list of three likes. But he couldn’t get carried away. There was every possibility that Carlos would turn out to be just as disappointing as every other date he’s gone on. He needed to be realistic about that possibility.

He opened the message, his eyes moving furiously over the screen.

_Hello,_

_My name is Carlos. I am a scientist. I am not writing you for dating reasons. Well, at least not ‘dating’ in the physical sense of the word. You are probably aware of that, as I don’t believe you live anywhere near New York._

_Despite our drastically different geographical situations, I was intrigued by your profile and would be interested in gathering more information about you. You sent me a wink, so I thought there may be a chance you would be amenable to that._

_Please feel free to contact me if you are. Have a nice day._

Cecil had to let out a happy giggle. He looked around quickly to see if anybody at the PTA meeting heard him, but the room had gone quite loud with the group’s attempt to organize itself into committees for the Field Day and Spider Wolf Wrangling Extravaganza (everybody always wanted to be on the prize committee and nobody ever wanted to take on Spider Wolf judging). Intern Khari had stood up on her chair, black flats gripping the blue plastic, in an attempt to get a better sound quality on her recorder.

Carlos wanted to gather information about him- _wow,_ what a scientist! Carlos, beautiful Carlos, was actually interested in talking to Cecil!

Cecil reread the message again. Ugh. New York. That was on the other side of the country. It put a significant damper on his plans to meet Carlos any time soon. 

And if he couldn’t actually meet Carlos, was there any point? His logical side was saying no, that it made no sense to talk go a guy he never had a chance of meeting. 

But his less rational side wanted to get to know Carlos more. He wanted to know what kind of a scientist he was, what he did for fun. Cecil wanted to know what his favorite food was, and what he did when he did to calm down when he was stressed. 

He shifted his legs on the uncomfortable chair. Hmmm, it looked like he had a choice to make. Purposely growing attached to somebody he had no hope of meeting seemed counterintuitive, but it wasn’t like he had many other prospects right now. And it certainly couldn’t hurt to talk to Carlos, right?

It’s not like he had much to lose. And he wouldn’t let himself get too invested- just keep the conversation light and fun. He’d only take things as far as Carlos wanted to take them. He didn’t want to end up head over heels for a guy across the country that only considered him an internet pen pal. 

He pushed the “reply” button. This PTA meeting hadn’t been so bad, after all.

///

_Thump, thump, thump._

Seventy seven pages. Seventy seven. All for naught.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Seventy. Seven. Pages. He’d had to throw away every one.

_Thump, thump, thump._

He’d thought about ripping every single page individually, garnering the only satisfaction he would ever gain from the now useless pieces of paper. But in the end, Carlos just decided to ball the entire document up, have Rochelle start a contained lab fire, and throw the whole thing in. Watching the flames consume his years of hard work didn't make him feel better, but it also didn’t make him feel worse.

_Thump, thump, thump._

“We’re going to have to pull the plug on the project,” the stupid corporate guy had said, as if two years was anywhere _near_ enough time for their team to come to any kind of results. “Our board has lost interest in your conclusions, especially with all the recent developments in the area coming from our competitors, and unfortunately, refuse to go forward with their funding.”

Lost interest in their conclusions. As if the work their team was doing on magnetism and earthquakes couldn’t possibly _save lives_ in the future.

_Thump, thump, thump._

“Not to worry though,” the stupid corporate guy said, with a stupid corporate smile. “There’s still plenty of work to be done. We’re reassigning you all to one of our larger projects. The team could use your help. There will be plenty for all three of you to do.”

Carlos’ blood had ran cold. When corporate called them in, he already knew what might be coming. He’d suited up and prepared for this, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to throw something. He felt like his tie was suffocating him.

The stupid corporate guy kept talking. “Tiana, it is unfortunate, but the new team does already have a supervisor. Which means this may result in a pay deduction for you.”

Tiana said nothing but glared through her thick glasses, eyes hard and focused. 

_Thump, thump, thump._

Carlos didn’t want to join a new, bigger team. He liked Rochelle and Tiana, and he liked their current project. Now he’d have to spend every day with a bunch of chatty people, people who probably thought that they were smarter than him and would try and act like it. 

Ugh. He was never a huge fan of change. 

In the end, he’d done one of the only things that helped him de-stress in times of turmoil: hit the gym. He listened to the rhythmic sound of his shoes beating against the bottom of the treadmill as he ran harder than he had in a while, trying to exhaust himself in an effort to get his mind off his predicament. 

This was so unfair. He’d only ever been good at one thing that mattered, and that was science. He hated that the profession came with so much baggage. Just like anything else, the people with money were in control. Carlos yearned for the days when he was more innocent and idealistic He used to picture himself, locked in a lab for days on end, investigating whatever his mind cared to look into that day, with no regard for things like corporate funding or political agendas.

Plus, this new project sounded like torture. The way the stupid corporate guy talked, they’d basically just be analyzing geophysical patterns from the last several decades in an attempt to predict new anomalies. It sounded like something an undergrad would do in a research seminar to practice writing lab reports. He hadn’t really been told what he was looking for or why he was doing it- surely meteorologists with the government have been doing that all along? They must have the data somewhere. The entire situation made absolutely no sense. 

He slowed the treadmill down to a walk to try and catch his breath. He’d already been at the gym for too long, he needed to go home and try and catch some sleep. He didn’t start his new assignment for another week, but the events of the day were wearing on him and the running session had done the trick. 

Carlos hopped off the machine and wiped it down. He’d been running for a while, and his entire body was covered a layer of sweat. He moved off to the side to stretch out his legs, slowly bending down to reach first his right ankle, then his left, before bringing each leg up in turn to stretch his quads. He leaned into the stretch in his muscles. Once he felt loose enough, he stood up straight before pulling up the bottom of his damp t-shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face. He could swear he sweat more than a normal person, but he knew that humans had varying levels of perspiration. He rubbed his shirt down his neck, trying to dry off as best he could.

When he righted his shirt and opened his eyes, he was taken aback by somebody standing directly in front of him, staring right at his face.

Carlos looked back at him for a moment, but the man didn’t say anything.

“Er, hello,” Carlos said before trying to move past him toward the locker room.

The man seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he had been in and blocked Carlos’ exit.

“Oh, wow. Sorry, that’s really embarrassing. I didn’t mean to stare,” he said, running a hand through his light brown hair. 

He tried not to groan. Objectively, Carlos knew that he was a decent looking guy. In school, girls that should have been way out of his league by the social rules of high school winked at him and asked him to dances. It might have been flattering to some kids, but Carlos mostly just wanted to be left alone. He never knew what to do when girls showed interest in him and had no interest in finding out. 

College was a little different. During undergrad, once he came to terms with his sexuality, he might have used his physical features to his advantage, just a little. He was never one for serious relationships, but he’d found a solid niche of friends in the natural science department. If he occasionally had some mutual benefits with those friends…well, nobody could fault him. 

In graduate school, once he had a career to think about and enough work to keep his mind off his hormones, he’d settled back down. Well, until he met _him_ , at least.

He tried not to think about that, though.

Carlos looked back at the guy in front of him again. He registered that he, also, was objectively good looking, and probably at least seven years younger than Carlos. He was slim, and even though he was in gym clothes, Carlos somehow got the vibe that he was a well-dressed kind of person. He was cute, in that ‘ex-frat boy’ kind of way. 

But the staring was creepy. 

“Oh,” Carlos said, for lack of any other response. “Well, excuse me, then.” He tried to move past the guy again, but once more, he was blocked.

“No, sorry,” the man said. “I wasn’t just staring for no reason. I promise I’m not that weird. I just…here, you left this on the machine.” He held out Carlos’ plastic water bottle.

“Oh,” Carlos said again, taking the green bottle back in hand. “Well, thank you then.”

“I’ve never seen you here before,” he said. “Did you just move here?”

“No, I’ve been here for years, actually,” Carlos said. “I’m normally part of the morning rush. I’m a bit off schedule today.”

“That explains it. Well, don’t let me keep you. Hope you enjoyed your venture into the night crowd.” The guy smiled and walked back over to the machine.

Carlos headed toward the locker rooms again. He supposed the interaction hadn’t been unpleasant, exactly, but Carlos had always been so wary of people who tried to hit on him. People had a habit of seeing Carlos, thinking he was attractive, and mistaking that for actually liking him. It sounded arrogant, even to himself, but it had happened enough times for Carlos to be aware of it. He found it exhausting.

Or at least he had, back in the stone age when he actually was trying to meet people. Nowadays, the only people he ever talked to were Rochelle and Tiana, one of whom was happily married and one of whom had said on multiple occasions that if she ever felt like dating men, Carlos would be the opposite of her pick (Rochelle had a way of being very flattering like that).

That was all about to change now, he reminded himself, dreading meeting his new coworkers. 

He pulled his phone out of his gym bag before he hit the showers. He had a new message from Rochelle:

_Ugh. Do you want to come over and drown our sorrows in some grocery store wine with me? Not sure when I bought it, but definitely within the last decade._

He smiled. She was taking the whole thing a bit better than he was, and he envied her optimism, but she was still annoyed. 

_Tomorrow instead? I’m exhausted._

He was surprised to find another notification waiting for him, this time from his dating site app (he refused to think about how it took conscious effort to download the app. He was going to blame that on Rochelle too, somehow this whole thing was her fault.) Carlos opened it and quirked his eyebrow. 

Interesting. VoiceOfNV had messaged him back. Carlos wasn’t going to pretend to not be interested in seeing what the message said, so he opened it right away.

_Carlos,_

_Your message was a pleasant surprise. I’d be more than happy to talk about anything you’d like._

_-VoNV_

It didn’t say much, really. He didn’t even tell Carlos his real name. Somehow, the lack of information just made Carlos even more intrigued. The man’s profile had been so extravagant and detailed, and this message was just the opposite. It made Carlos wonder what he had to do to tap into that deep, eloquent part of the man.

The other man had basically just thrown the ball back in his court. Carlos could work with that. He decided to keep things simple.

_I’d like to get to know more about you. You know I’m a scientist, what do you do for a living?_

Not exactly smooth or flirty, but honestly, Carlos couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t have anything to lose, he might as well be completely himself. He still felt a little ridiculous for engaging in conversation with a complete stranger that he had no hope of ever meeting, but he was intrigued.

And besides, Carlos found himself surprisingly interested in learning the answer. He glanced at the man’s profile photo again, taking note at just how attractive he seemed to be. His appearance didn’t really lend itself to any particular profession, however, and Carlos’ curiosity just seemed to grow. 

He was suddenly very glad that he had initiated a conversation with VoiceOfNV. It would be really nice to talk to somebody that could maybe get his mind off all the work drama.

Carlos navigated back to the photos, flipping through them once more for good measure. VoiceOfNV just seemed so…happy all of the time. He had a lot of photos with other people, men and women who had their arms thrown casually around him, looking up at him with admiring gazes. Carlos wondered how charismatic a person has to be if the trait is even evident in photographs. His smile in each photo was brilliant, large and slightly crooked. It made Carlos want to smile too. 

Of all the photos, though, Carlos preferred the photo where the man was by himself, save for a lone doll he held in his hand. (The doll was a frankly terrifying toy, with strange black teeth and an expression that could only be described as ‘vacant.’ Carlos choose to think that this added to the photo’s charm.) 

The photo was clearly taken while the man was playing with a child, and he appeared to be dancing with the doll. He had a big, shining grin on his face, his arms spread wide with one hand clutching the doll’s. He looked so happy to be doing something so goofy, like it didn’t matter at all what he looked like or what others thought of him.

It had been a while since Carlos felt that carefree.

He’d like to feel that way again, someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://www.poeticdaisy.tumblr.com) if you like to look at reblogs and talk about Night Vale!
> 
> Also, if anybody out there would like to run through these chapters and check for errors for me, that'd be glorious!


End file.
